Horcruxes in My Head
by wynnebat
Summary: Harry hears voices in his head, but he's not crazy, honestly. It's the voices who are crazy! GEN, mentions of het and slash, first-year fic.


**Title:** Horcruxes In My Head

**Summary:** Harry hears voices in his head, but he's not crazy, honestly. It's the voices that are crazy!

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"Hagrid?" Harry asked.

Hagrid grunted, but didn't look up. The people around Harry and Hagrid on the train to London leaned in a little closer. What odd conversations could a giant man knitting something like a canary-yellow circus tent and a pre-teen boy with a strange scar have?

"Hagrid?" Harry tried again, this time prodding the man with his finger. His knuckle vanished into Hagrid's voluminous coat, but it must have had some effect.

Finally, Hagrid looked up. "Ye'h, 'Arry?"

Harry looked around (the eavesdroppers reluctantly returned to their books and their conversations) and cupped his hands over his mouth. Hagrid got the hint and leaned across the aisle towards Harry.

"I' somethin' wrong, 'Arry?" he whispered.

Harry cupped his hands around Hagrid's rather large ear. He opened his mouth to ask his question, then closed it. He knew he shouldn't ask—who knew how Hagrid would react?—but what if it was normal with wizards?

"Hagrid, do people in," he began, leant back, looked around again to make sure the people around them _really_ weren't listening, and leant forward again. He nervously continued, "in _your_ world, do they hear voices?"

Hagrid recoiled and made an expression as if someone had stuffed a peeled lemon in his mouth. "Gallopin' gorgons, 'Arry! Voices?" He had been shocked out of his (albeit loud) whisper. The people around them leaned in again. "What kind of voices 'Arry?" His eyes widened even more and his cheeks puffed. He leant in. "In yer head?"

Harry gulped. Hagrid was reacting in the same exact way Aunt Petunia reacted. This was getting bad. What if Hagrid thought he was crazy and thought crazy people made bad wizards and sent him back to the Dursleys? Think fast, he thought to himself. "I don't know. I mean, I saw this movie once where this kid could levitate things and could talk to his other friend with his mind. So I thought maybe I could do things like that." He was talking too quickly and his face showed all his nervousness (Harry had always been a bad liar) but Hagrid relaxed.

"No, 'Arry, I don't thin' anyone can do 'at." Hagrid stared at him for a few more seconds. If he'd been anyone else, Harry would've thought he'd been studying him, but if Hagrid had gotten kicked out of Hogwarts, there must have been a reason, and Harry bet it was because Hagrid couldn't keep up intellectually. What kind of sane person would give a random kid a pig's tail, knowing full well the Dursleys would have to go to someone who knew nothing of magic to get rid of it? Someone who'd obviously wonder how a human child had grown a pig's tail?

"You can't hear voices, can yeh 'Arry?"

"No. Of course not." Harry smiled, showing just enough teeth to make himself look cute. "I just thought it would be a cool thing to do."

Hagrid nodded and went back to his knitting.

_Hah, the buffoon wanted to believe you_. Tom laughed. _Wouldn't want crazy people going to Hogwarts, no we wouldn't. _

_Shut up. I needed to check_, Harry told him. _But I guess I really am a freak. By wizarding standards, too. _

_Oh come on, you didn't even tell him about speaking to snakes_, other Tom said. _The oaf can get over a few voices in his head . . . but parseltongue . . ._

_I thought you said there was nothing wrong with that!_ Harry cried, panicked.

_Shhh, it's a good thing you didn't. Remember Dumbledore?_ The nice Tom said.

_Who?_ Harry asked.

_Sorry, wasn't talking to you_, the nice Tom answered.

_Would've been fun to see Dumblebore's reaction to the kid who defeated Voldemort speaking parseltongue_, another Tom said, mournfully.

_This fool would've just mistaken it for accidental magic. _

_You're too reckless_, another voice said._ It's a good thing none of you are able to speak._

_Hey, guys? I'm still here. You're ignoring me in my own head. It's not fair. _

_Child, we're a symptom of your abandonment issues. We'll go away when you grow up. _

_Harry, you're spacing out. Harry?_

"Harry?" Hagrid's voice called out.

"Ooops," Harry said. "I was just lost in my head."

Hagrid looked like he wanted to double check Harry's sanity, but instead said, "Yeh should check yer letter for things you need."

"Okay," Harry agreed and took the parchment envelope out of his pocket. He quickly glanced it over and whispered, with a deep blush, "I don't have any money."

_You're a Potter and not illegitimate and your father was probably not disinherited for marrying a mudblood, don't know why. You've money in Gringotts_, Tom told him.

"Don't worry, yer parents left ye a bit a gold in Gringotts," Hagrid replied.

"Oh, good."

_What's Gringotts?_ Tom supplied. _Idiot. You should be glad Hagrid hasn't grown any brains since Dippet expelled him. _

_Idiots, both of you_, another voice grumbled.

"What's Gringotts?" Harry asked as Hagrid and he stepped off the train. He didn't bother asking Tom how they knew things he didn't; Tom's replies were as varied as they were false.

By the time Harry and Hagrid reached a strange pub that popped out of nowhere, one Tom had listed thirty-two synonyms for 'brainless oaf' and another Tom had counted them loudly in German. When asked, Tom mumbled something about idolizing Grindelwald in his stupid youth and that the only way to speak German was to speak it loudly.

At Madam Malkin's, Tom decided that Martin Malkin had been a better tailor by far, Hagrid had realized he needed a drink, and Harry wondered why he got the downsides of fame (people gushing over him at the Leaky Cauldron) but not the upsides of fame (fast service). What did it take to get Madam Malkin to work faster?

_You're thinking like a good Slytherin, Harry. _

_Stop baiting me with hints you'll refuse to tell more about. _

"Hey, excuse me?" Harry said to boy in robes standing next to him, hoping to get a few answers from him.

The boy looked him up and down, taking in Harry's ratty muggle clothes, and raised his nose just a little higher. "Yes," he said, as though he were doing Harry a great favor by replying.

"What's Slytherin? I keep hearing about it, but no one's explained what it is," Harry asked.

"You're a muggleborn. I don't have time for you. You shouldn't even be allowed into Hogwarts. You won't get into Slytherin, that's _my_ house. Excuse me." The boy quickly walked past Harry, taking great care not to touch him.

"Wait! I was only . . ." Harry trailed off when the boy didn't even stop.

_What was that?_ Harry wondered. Tom, for once, didn't answer.

Although the hall was very beautiful, Harry couldn't fully appreciate it at the moment. He was glad he wouldn't have to face a mountain troll (whatever that was), but what if the hat didn't sort him? What if he were a muggle? What if he were sorted into Slytherin? What if-

_You feel that? It's our delinquent brother, in the flesh. _Tom's voice was predatory and rough. Harry shivered.

_In whose flesh?_ Another Tom asked. _I'm too weak to feel him._

_Can't tell yet. Hook nosed guy, maybe? Hey, he's even glaring at us! Harry, wave to him!_

_That's Snape, he's one of ours. Must've been such an honor for him to carry me. _

_Wave_, Tom ordered.

_No way. I don't know him. And he's glaring at me. And I'll look stupid. And what do you mean by brother?_

_Snape's in Slughorn's spot. He's head of Slytherin. _

"Potter, Harry!"

_Let's go! He can't ignore us forever!_

We'll tell you later.

Harry slowly walked to the stool while the voices debated about which teacher was their brother. He sat down and put on the sorting hat; it engulfed the entire top half of his face.

_My, my, Mr. Potter, _a quiet woman's voice echoed in his head. _What an interesting mind you have. It's been a while since I've sorted someone possessed. _

_I'm not possessed!_ Harry argued. _I just . . . have company, that's all._

_Then you'll not mind my voice adding to your company, would you?_ she asked, though Harry wasn't sure if he was allowed to disagree.

_No m'am._

_I mind_, a Tom said. _Old hat, we'll burn you and your phoenix friend with Fiendfyre if you tell the old coot we're here. _

_Why hello again, Mr. Riddle. It's been a very long time. But this isn't your sorting, is it?_ She paused for a few long moments, searching through Harry's mind.

_Tell it you want to be in Slytherin. That's where all the cool kids go. Ignore Malfoy, he's gay. He gets it and his blond hair from his grandfather. I always hated Abraxas. This one probably has a crush on you. _

_Eww, Malfoy? On me? And I don't want to be in Slytherin! And how come you know things I don't? Voices in my head aren't supposed to be smarter than me. _

_We're your recollections from your first year of life. _

_Malfoy's pretty attractive, if pointy. If he gains a few stones, you'll have a hard time keeping me away from him. _

_You knew Malfoy's grandfather? I knew Malfoy's grandfather?_

_Not exactly. _

Tom laughed._ Everyone knew Malfoy's grandfather. He was such a sl-_

_As interesting as it is to sort you, Tom Riddle, twice, I have a job to do. Difficult child to sort you are, Mr. Potter. Very Difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either, but you're no Ravenclaw. There's talent, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting. A strong dislike of your relatives; a voice tells you you're better than them and you wonder if it's right. You want to be the best, better than your cousin, better than your schoolmates, better than everyone, and Tom's helping you along . . . How could I put you anywhere but -_

_Not Slytherin! Please not Slytherin!_ Harry gripped the edges of the stool and prayed he wouldn't be put in Malfoy's house.

_Not Slytherin, eh? You could be great, you know, the potential's all here in your head, excuse the pun, but there's more, you'll truly do well there. It'll send you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that._

_Yes, yes, send us to Slytherin. _

_No, not Slytherin!_

_Seriously, not Gryffindor! Or I'll take over his mind and slaughter everyone in the tower!_

_You can't get up the girls' staircases_, another Tom argued.

_All the boys! Why are you arguing against us?_

Harry began panicking. _No, no, no, no, no! Put me in Slytherin and I'll become Voldemort. He was a Slytherin. You don't want that, right?_

_Oh? Become Voldemort? Is that ambition I smell? Better be-_"SLYTHERIN," the hat yelled.

Harry stumbled over to the Slytherin table, pale and shaking. Would his Gryffindor parents be disappointed in him? He sat as far away from Malfoy as possible.

_Homophobe, are you? We'll see about that once puberty hits. _

_Shut up. I'm upset._

The Slytherins clapped loudly for him, if belatedly and with faces of utter astonishment.

_Our brother looks like he's going to puke. Let's piss him off some more, Harry. _

"I expect excellent grades from each and every one of you. Study groups will be . . ."

_Harry?_

_Yes?_ Harry glumly wondered what was wrong. His voices weren't usually hesitant.

_I think we might've been wrong. This man isn't our brother. It was probably the man sitting next to him. _

_So you forced me into Malfoy's house and made me disappoint my parents because of a stupid mistake?_

_Yes. I was too far away and was mistaken._

Snape gave him another glare.

_That's five death glares, but who's counting. _

_What do you know about Snape? I'm serious. _

_He was in love with your mother_, a voice quickly said.

_Traitor_, Tom mumbled.

_He wanted us to save her. And he hated your father. It's a boring story. He's a boring, ugly person, really._

_Go away, all of you, or I'll start talking like Hagrid. And grow my hair out. I'm annoyed at you. _

The voices went away, back to wherever they come from. Harry wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure it wasn't to the back of his mind.

The students all went upstairs.

"Professor?" Harry asked, biting his lip.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape spat.

"I was wondering if there is a program for muggleborn students to learn wizarding customs? I was raised by my mom's sister, Petunia Dursley nee Evans, and I don't know much about wizards."

Snape looked like he smelled something disgusting. "Petunia Evans? Dumbledore put you with her?"

"Yes sir." Harry looked down and shuffled his feet. "She doesn't like magic very much." Very quietly, he mumbled, "She thinks I'm a freak."

"No, there are none. Go to your bedroom. Classes start early." Snape's tone was still hard, but it had softened from harsh disgust, and his eyes had a less hateful glare.

"Yes sir."

Harry turned around and let out a very tiny smile. He felt accomplished; Snape looked like he'd hate him a little less from now on. Manipulating people always made him feel better. He wasn't too angry at Tom anymore, but he didn't want to talk to him for a long while.

All those years with Tom in his head weren't for nothing, he decided. And maybe Slytherin wouldn't be too bad.

When he got upstairs to the first years' boys dormitory (a prefect had pointed him in the right direction), Malfoy and Nott were fighting over the bed to the far left of the room.

"This was my father's bed," Nott said.

"This bed is the closest to the bathroom and I get up very early. I wouldn't want to wake you up," Malfoy argued.

Harry wondered if Malfoy got up early in order to properly style his slicked back hair. Was that hair gel he saw in Malfoy's hair?

Crabbe and Goyle had just picked two beds across from the Best Bed (Nott and Malfoy were to be believed). Harry took the third bed on their side and next to the exit. He dropped his trunk next to his desk, dropped his clothes onto his trunk, and fell asleep to the sounds of Malfoy and Nott arguing.

_Good night, Tom._

When he didn't hear a mental reply, Harry felt completely awful, worse than he'd felt when he'd thought he'd betrayed his parents for being Sorted into Slytherin. He promised himself he'd make up with Tom tomorrow.


End file.
